Grimoire
by veedoesthings
Summary: Lily & Scorpius have long loved one another, but as a man determined to avenge the Dark Lord begins to rise, they are torn apart by conflicting interests, opinions and most of all, bloodlines. Slowly, they plunge into a twisted, demoralizing world. R&R!
1. Prologue

**Authors Note:**

Grimoire is a fanfiction based entirely upon a Lily and Scorpius' relationship. It's a dark story, and will alarm some, but that doesn't matter to me. My plans are to expose the raw humanity behind decisions and what makes certain people good, or evil. I know the characters may at times appear to be a little O-O-C, but thats because the things I will have put them through will change them.

_Story idea, plotline, text all belong to rewind and BEGIN AGAIN._

_Characters, names, places, ideas, and else belong to the lovely and talented J.K Rowling._

Enjoy - and please do read & review!

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_Prologue:_

When all is said, dying at the hands of someone you love is an easy matter.

They don't prolong it, nor do they make the hate and guilt all the more turmulous. They simply point, speak, and then it's all over. One brilliant flash of green light, and then there's no more heartsore wandering and nights of endless weeping. Certainly, death comes easier to some than it does to others - in my short life, I've known grown men who've wept piteously like a baby, struggling and writhing to get away from the hands of their tormentor. I've known others who have raised their chins and met their killers square in the eyes, daring them not to look away. As my dad told it - many, many times - my grandparents were like that. Lily and James Potter; two names the wizarding world would always remember. But they had died at the hands of somebody truly evil - someone they had struggled against.

Scorpius was not someone I hated, not somebody evil - he was someone I loved.

We had begun our relationship halfway through our schooling years at Hogwarts. He was two years older than me and handsome, albeit sinister, and of the Ravenclaw house. I, happy in Gryffindor, had almost always wondered about the pale, almost sickly looking boy with white-blond hair that had wandered the corridors. He was a model student, and the teachers had loved him - just as they'd loved me - but there was some air of solitude about him. During my common-room nights I would sit around the fire with my friends, and they would tell me stories -how his father and my father had once been enemies, how they had been pitted against one another time after time. Both of them had played a crucial role in the Second Wizarding War; my father leading those that were good, and his father hidden amongst those that were bad. Ultimately, though, Scorpius' father had backed down, unable to stand a place in the cruelty he should've partaken in. And my father had won.

Such a gap, I had been told, could never be covered. Malfoys and Potters would not mix; _could _not mix. My mother - and my father, after a little hesitation - begged to differ, although Uncle Ron seemed quite amused at the idea. "_A Malfoy and a Potter, friends?"_ he had roared with laughter, "_There's a new one, Harry ... she's got a great sense of humour." _But it had not been humour and my dad had not laughed; he had seen the uncertainty in my eyes. Chocolate brown, those eyes were, not the vivid green of my brother Al's, or my father's. I was not fond of them, not at all, despite the many, many times my mother assured me I was beautiful.

Finally, in our fourth year I confronted Scorpius. We became friends after my rushed explanation I'd been watching him all these years - and he had said the same of me. But friendship slowly blossomed into something else; I understood him as truly as he did me. He was lonely, and I, overshadowed by my brothers, constantly searched for somebody to make me feel more alive. Scorpius often complained bitterly of the resentment he had faced because of his surname, whereas I hated the awestruck glances and adoring gazes I'd recieved for bearing the name of 'Potter'. We both longed for anonymity and companionship; to be understood and to be heard, not for what we appeared to be, but for what we were.

Our relationship was bittersweet and lovely. It was like the blooming of a flower; it unfolded sweet and serenely and caressed both of us in it's warm grip. We had no need for foolish words, for silly dates and laughter and games - while we indulged in them occasionally, it was each other's company that we craved. The only trap between us was our blood; Scorpius held Muggleborns and half-bloods in contempt, and I hated him for the behaviour that had been programmed into him by his relatives. As we spent more time together, that residing hatred began to diminish.

However, news of an uprising was beginning to take over our thoughts and primary concerns. Words that 'Voldemort's Successor', a young man known as Bryce Xander was beginning to gather power and sought revenge for his beloved master's death, tore what could've been good and pure to pieces. Scorpius had far too long been supposedly aligned with what was dark and seductive whereas I was a symbol of righteousness and purity and belief. Scorpius retreated further and further into himself, becoming a haunted shell of his former self, and I was dragged back into the roaring red flames of Gryffindor with my brothers, proclaiming the defeat of Xander with joy and pomp. But he still rose; not even foolish children's words could stop him.

And in my fifth year at Hogwarts, when it seemed all this would end, everything began.

----


	2. In A Word, Idyllic

**Authors Note:**

This is the official beginning of Grimoire which is written from Lily's P.O.V. It seems that Scorpius has delved deeper and deeper into the secrets of the Dark Arts to live up to his name and the pressuring influence of his relatives - a fact that had Lily and Scorpius arguing, and eventually leaving for summer without making up. During Lily's fifth year, Scorpius seems entirely consumed with a burning desire he cannot place. While she repeatedly tries to assure him that all will be alright, it seems that all will be lost. Meanwhile, James is convinced that the Malfoy boy is no good for his youngest sister - Albus has not yet spoken on this matter.

_Disclaimers:_

_Plotline, scenarios, e.t.c - belong to me, RABA._

_Characters, places, ideas, e.t.c - belong to the talented JKR. I don't claim her work or wish to pretend that it is mine._

* * *

'In A Word, Idyllic'

_The summer holidays had been beautiful. We had sung and laughed and danced and both my mother and my father had thoroughly enjoyed spending time with us. James would come home from his work at the Ministry, bringing us fantastical tales of his mentor, an Auror by the name of Dean Thomas. And Albus and I were so happy; we would run through every inch of the house and play Quidditch on our battered broomsticks, laughing and teasing one another. Scorpius had gone his own way last year, and we hadn't so much as said goodbye - a thought that troubled me. I had seen his profile as I'd climbed onto the platform, and it had been serene, serious, and distant - a face I vaguely remembered from the time before I'd known him. I would've rushed to him, thrown my arms around his neck and stayed there, had it not been for the presence of my family. And so we had parted ways without apologizing for the angry words we'd exchanged only days before. And so the summers had passed - idyllic, and beautiful - without a hint of love._

_"_Lil? C'mon, we've got the first day of classes."

It was hard to bring yourself out of your thoughts, but with an effort, I managed it. I raised my hand, pushing the curtain of red hair I'd loved so long aside, and blinked up at my brother. Albus - or Al, as he was fondly known - seemed scrawnier than ever, his browny-black hair ruffled and green eyes shining with a vigour I'd never understood. His robes, scarlet and black, had been thrown over his torso haphazardly, and he looked little more than a boy impatient to go to his first day of school. I laughed and stood, closing the photo album on my bed with one hand as I did so. He had always retained much of his youth, whereas James and I had matured - and aged - well before it was our time. There was just something so innocently charismatic about Al that made you want to be his friend and take care of him, regardless of his Potter status or anything else. I smiled at him good-naturedly, and he smiled back, although now he looked just that little bit worried - my way of thinking without speaking normally had him worried.

"Al, you're a seventh-year here. You don't need to be waiting for your kid sisters anymore."

"I don't mind." my brother insisted, his face shining with boyish charm. "I want to walk you down to the Great Hall, eat breakfast with you, then we can go to Transfiguration together."

In truth, I had been planning on meeting Scorpius outside the Ravenclaw Tower, and walking to breakfast with him. There was much I had to say that I hadn't gotten a chance to; an apology, for starters. I hadn't spoken to him during the holidays, those peaceful, serene, joyful holidays - and I knew, for a fact, that things had changed. The Ravenclaw friends I had spoken to said they had not seen Scorpius, either; he had secluded himself in the boy's bedchambers, apparently. The words had worried me and had kept me up half the night - such behaviour while, not exactly unusual for Scorpius, was somewhat threatening.

"Aw, Al, it's alright - _seriously_. I appreciate the thought, but what will the other boys say? I mean, at least go with that pretty girl you met the other day- - Penny Quinland, was it?"

Al quirked a quizzical brow. "Penny? Oh no, she's-" he hesitated, and I knew the feeling; the want to boast of your significant other to someone else,and yet, the uncertainty to - after all, there was always a feeling that James, who had graduated no less than two years ago, would suddenly Apparate and demand the details. At a weak attempt at changing the subject, Al said, "We're respected, kind of, Lil. It's not like anyone would laugh at," he put slight emphasis on the words, "Harry Potter's son, you know?"

It was like a sour taste in my mouth; the reminder that I was that scarred boy's son, and thus was to be respected and admired. All my life, dad had been simply that - just dad - albeit a little more than well-known than other friend's fathers. And while it was true my father was one of the most important people to me, the constant reminder that I was special because of my bloodline had begun to irritate and irk at me. It seemed that I could get away with anything - or nothing - simply because of my surname. The frequent calls of 'Hey, Potter, can you help me out with this?' or 'Your father was quite like that' had begun to wear at my heart and soul, slowly, bit by bit, convincing me that anonymity was better. Scorpius had felt the same way, and he had the bitter end of the stick. Instead of being extolled and having his praises sung, students often cast him suspicious glances and skirted around him in the hallways, because the name Malfoy was synonymous with enemy. With danger. With hate. And no-one would associate themselves with a boy like that.

"I guess." I said, instead of voicing my thoughts. "In any case, I'm going to take a while - I didn't really feel like breakfast today, anyway; we had a midnight feast last night in the girls' chambers. I might just head to the library," I added, knowing that the library was one of Al and Jame's most despised spots, "or skip early to Transfiguration."

It was quite sneaky, my thus-employed tactics, but there was a certain drive behind them.

Al's face, however, did not drop at the mention of the library. He instead frowned and I felt my stomach churn, knowing what was coming next. As best as I'd tried to keep my budding friendship, and eventual romance with Scorpius under lock and key, my actions would have undoubtably been suspicious. Both Al and James had commented that I'd acted differently around them that summer - jumpier, more fidgety and awkward, as if planning a get-away any moment. I had laughed off such suspicions, keeping a calm face, whereas inside my heart had been palpitating wildly. They had seen me with Scorpius, and James claimed that when I had been a mere third year and he a seventh-year, he had often caught me casting sneaky little glances in the Ravenclaw's direction. I had vehemently denied such rumours, saying that Scorpius was a fellow classmate and someone I passed in the hall often; something refused to let me speak my mind, claim him as my friend and longtime flame. And while both my mother and father had cast sympathetic glances in my direction, I'd smiled them off. Lying through my teeth.

After all, all that had passed between our families was too much.

"Lil," he said, and settled down upon my bed, "Mum and Dad - and James, in particular, kind of are a bit worried about you. They think you're isolating yourself ... or something. I mean, Mum doesn't think it's all that bad. But James is protesting you're spending far too much time moping about by yourself. I just wanted to know if you're alright?"

If he had been any other person, I would've faked a smile and claimed I was alright. But instead, I sat down on the bed beside my brother, and rested my head on his shoulder. He was warm and comforting, as he had always been; my steady rock in my times of need. And for some reason, I couldn't shake the feeling that there were dangerous times ahead. Every morning in the newspaper we had seen the same words; Bryce Xander, Bryce Xander, Bryce Xander. The veyr name elicited fear in the hearts of us all; the idea that such a handsome young man was plotting revenge, was speaking evil with every word. To me, the man in the pictures was a distant apparation; someone I could not bring myself to fear truly. Dad had often told me that a wise man had once said something along the lines of fear of a picture only heightens fear of the person himself. Those words had become my motto; I could not fear Bryce Xander from what I'd heard. He was indeed a malicious force in this world, but I did not truly know that yet.

"I'm fine, truly Al, I am." I said. "Things have just been hard recently ... James bringing back all these stories that he thinks are fascinating, and yet sound so dangerous ... and my friends have been off. I've just grown up a bit more, I guess. We all would've."

From what I could make of my brother's face, he was serene - for once. He did not speak for a moment, but then turned to me and his eyes were sad. Nonetheless, my brother - the brother I'd loved a long time now- smiled for me.

"Well, we all have. We've all wanted to keep you out of the adult world for a long time now. But I guess there's no chance of that happening."

--

Al set off for breakfast, his stomach grumbling hungrily a little while later, and I dressed quickly, pinning my red hair into a more acceptable 'do and wiping my eyes of any sleep. I'd then bundled my books under my arm, pulled on my shoes, and hurried through the winding corridors of Hogwarts westwards, towards Ravenclaw Tower. Through the crowds I had searched for the white-blond hair I'd become so particular to, but caught no sign of it. Students had parted respectfully before me, and I had ducked my head, flushing; I was not entitled to such respect, only one such as my father was. Professor Longbottom caught sight of me in the hallway and waved cheerfully, his round face beaming with glee - I had waved back, him being a family friend, and then turned the corridor, climbed the staircase and stood before the handleless door, eyeing the eagle knocker tentatively. It's beady eyes stared back at me, waiting.

"Don't." I said, as it opened it's golden beak to speak, "Don't say anything - yet."

"You think he's coming?" it squawked back at me. "Your beau. What wit do you possess to capture one as bright as him?"

I did not respond, and the door opened. A gaggle of girls, all blonde and slender and very pretty scampered out, casting surprised glances at me; I ducked my head so that they would not recognise me, although that was surely inevitable -after all, I possessed the trademark red hair of the Weasleys. Finally, when it had seemed no-one else would come out, the boy I had been searching for approached tentatively, placing one hand on the door as he pulled himself out. His appearance startled me; he was a lot thinner than he had been before, and at the same time, had grown so that I was now a good inch below his shoulders. His face was gaunt and paler than usual, and his eyes were large and lacklustre. His robes had been neatly pulled about him, but for some reason, this morning the blue didn't suit him. All at once, the reminder of our differences came rushing back to me - and for a moment, my hand hesitated in the air between his.

"She's watching you." the eagle squawked, and Scorpius whirled around. For a moment there was hate and revulsion in his eyes, then surprise as he caught sight of me.

"_Lily? _What are you doing here? You don't come up here!"

The unresolved anger in his voice reminded me of our last argument and I flushed but jerked my chin up angrily. "I came to apologize for what I last said to you." I said, not letting anger penetrate my voice, "About you wanting to be a Death Eater, and hating being here - with me - and with everyone else - and being all doomsay. But I _did _hate it when you were like that."

Those had not been my planned words, and in an instant, I wish I could've swallowed them back. It was like I'd slapped him in the face - for a moment, he had looked almost hopeful as I'd said I would apologize, then resentment had barred itself across his face in cold, hard iron rings. I could vaguely remember the good times we'd had before the emergence of Bryce Xander; laughter, joy, and the feeling of being accepted. Now he had returned to the cold Malfoy boy he'd been before.

"So you take it back - but you still believe it." he said flatly. "Despite the amount of time that's passed, you think I still want to .." he made a gesture. "To follow in my father's footsteps or something, is that it?"

There was no motive behind his word; just fact-stating, and I seized his hand. It was cold, and I rubbed at it instinctively, trying to get the blood flowing. He pulled away, and I stopped; Scorpius had never pulled away from me. Despite our understanding of our precarious situation, we had both always needed one another. And yet now, there was an indifference to his face. I moved closer, needing to be near him. Scorpius remained there, as if he was only just tolerating my touch; his whole body shook.

"Lil, I accept your apology." he said, although it didn't sound like it. "How long has it been now for us though - about a year and a half?" The slightest of smiles slipped onto his face, but his eyes were still vacant - as if consumed by something else. "It's ... good ... to see you."

But if it was, he had shown no sign of it. Something was troubling him, something lingering on his mind; he had not truly looked at me save for that one time, nor made any inclination that he still liked me. And he had not moved closer or slipped his arm around my waist or shoulder or kissed me yet - all these things he would've done spontaneously, as if wanting to express his emotions without expressing them - before our argument. Before this summer.

"Same here." I said. "It's been a while. How was the summer for you? Good? I hope it was."

He said nothing; I nudged him. "It was enlightening. In a word ... idyllic." Scorpius said, and that clued me into nothing. "How was yours?" The words were flat, the delivery stodgy; no interest whatsoever.

"It was ..." I hesitated, unable to bring myself to tell him of my joyous family - the family he was, by blood, bound to disagree with. That was the condition of our relationship; we would never bring up our families. "... like any other holiday." I would not mention my family's suspicions. "I guess I'm looking forward to going back to class. There's a lot that's been going on, I guess - for both you and me, and the rest of the wizarding world - and I just want to see everyone."

He would not respond, and impulsively, I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him hard. His lips pressed against me; angry, hard, and his arms encircled my waist. After a moment or two, he broke it off - again, this was not right. Normally it had been I, embarassed and pleased, that would break off the kiss lest anyone see and gossip, or simply because I was overwhelmed. And yet there had been no rush between us - just a simple kiss.

"We should get to class, huh?" he said. His eyes were dark, and I said nothing.

There was so much I could've said then. I could've asked him what was going on, how his famliy was treating him, how they had reacted to the news of Bryce Xander. And yet I said nothing.

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This is basically setting the scene for everything else; hope you enjoyed it! Now go, and **review! **:]


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